Page 1 of The Fight For Survival
Prologue
Kane
Angrytearsburnapath down my cheeks. Run. I have to run. It's the only choice I have left. Staying here with the devil is no longer an option. I'd deluded myself into thinking that once I turned eighteen, everything would be different—he'd be different. But shit just got worse. He dares to call himself a father. I'd never do such things to my kid.
Hate flares in my chest, for him, for me, for leaving them. But I can't stay here and live through one more second of his abuse. They will understand. Gripping the letters I've written to each of them, I inhale a shaky breath and stuff them in my pocket. Scrubbing the tears from my face, hissing when I rub over the new marks marring it, I haul my backpack from under the bed and hurriedly stuff what little clothes I have inside.
Life dealt me a shitty hand when it came to who I got for my parents. My mother was a selfish woman. She did nothing to protect me from my father's wrath. Why would she when he stopped beating on her and put all of his attention into making my life hell instead? She watched the abuse he put me through year after year until one day, she even stopped doing that. I found her in the bathroom with her wrists cut open to the point where I could see tendons and bone.
The blood.
I shiver at the memory. No eight-year-old boy should ever have to witness that.
Of course, I got the blame for that too. It was me she was desperate to get away from. That's what he would tell me while beating me bloody. If a father could do such horrific things to his child, Imagine what he could do to people that weren't his family.
If I didn't have my friends, more like soul mates, Cade and Mia, I probably would have followed in my mother's footsteps and ended it all. The urge is overwhelming sometimes, just taking a razor blade to my wrists and finally ending the pain and misery.
Then I think of how it felt when my Mom did that, how the blame consumed me for a long time. I could never do that to them. I love them way too much. A vicious ache spreads through my chest, thinking about them.
I'm sorry.
I was so ashamed that my mother killed herself because of me, that I didn't even tell Cade and Mia. I told them that she was sick. Died of some illness we were too young to understand.
Shouldering my backpack, I listen for movement through the house as I open my bedroom door painfully slowly, just a smidge, a little of the setting sunlight from the hallway window spilling onto my shoes in the dark of my room. I hold my breath, watching my feet, praying the door or the floorboards don't creak as I step over the threshold toward freedom. Looking up, too late as a thick and steel-like fist connects with my nose, the sickening crunch of bone, the well of tears once more spilling over.
The thud of my backpack hitting the floor as I stumble back sounds loud to my ringing ears as I drop it. An automatic response to reach up and hold my face, as though that could hold in the hurt and blood. My brain took a second to register my father there, his mammoth build darkening the doorway.
"Where the fuck do you think you are going, you little shit?" He sneers, taking a threatening step toward me. The one inch of height he has over my 6-foot frame suddenly feels like 5. My nose is pissing blood, soaking my dark blue shirt.
"It's Friday, and you know where we go on Fridays, you stupid boy." He jabs a finger in my direction as I swipe the blood from my lips, tasting the sweet metallic liquid coating my teeth and flooding my tongue as some must have run into my mouth. That, mixed with the pain and dread, was threatening to bring me to my knees as I try like hell not to throw up.
A paralyzing, soul-destroying fear consumes me. A cold sweat breaks out on my forehead, and a strong tremor threatens to take over my body. It's crippling but also infuriating that I am so weak. I feel so ashamed that I let my father have so much control over my emotions, but I was too terrified to stop it. It's a fear that's been beaten so deeply into me since I can remember. It just comes naturally.
It stops now. For the first time in my miserable life, I look the devil in the eyes. With the tiny bit of courage I have in me, I grit out with a shaky voice, "I'm leavingDad, and I'm never coming back here again," although my sentence ends with my voice cracking from the terror I am feeling, there's conviction in my tone, a confidence I don't own.
I will my legs to stay steady and feed from the years of punishments, years of a loveless household as I raise to my full height, clench my fists, and state. "I hope you die here, you sick fucking pig," It shocks him, and the confused look on his stupid face ignites courage inside me I've never before owned.
Raising my hand, and with precision, I swing and land a hard blow to his spiteful mouth, his bottom lip bursting like a grape on impact. My heart beats a war drum against my ribcage as a rush of adrenaline spikes my bloodstream, easing the throbbing in my knuckles. Shock sparks his eyes wide as I shove past him, dodging his outstretched hand, making a grab for me.
"You little cunt!" He roars after me, his footfalls slow compared to mine. I don't stop moving until I'm down the stairs two at a time and slamming the front door behind me. "You won't Get away with this. I will find you, Kane, and the suffering you have been through so far is nothing to what you'll feel when I do…."
A smile tugs on my lips. Fuck him and his threats. I'm in control for the first time in my life. One more stop, then I'm gone for good. The only time I'll see that man again is if he's in a casket.
Cade and Mia manifest in my mind, gripping my heart in a vice hold. After everything that's just happened, this next part will still be the hardest. It takes me ten minutes in a flat-out run in the pouring rain to get to our hangout.
The sun has almost set now, meaning they will be leaving to go home soon. Our spot is a run-down cabin long forgotten by the owners, with nature claiming most of its back. The place is half fallen down and smells like rot, but it's ours—a sanctuary from everything—everyone but us.
Mia's laughter strums through the air like music sending a wave of warmth through my body. Cade is probably acting crazy to make her smile.
That warmth intensifies as I think of him. The regret I feel that I didn't use the time I had with him to confess my feelings is ripping at my heart. This fucking hurts so bad, but if I don't go, it will be me in a casket, not my old man.
Pulling the letters from my pocket, I inhale a steadying breath, sneak up to the steps leading to the front door, and pause. If they read these letters, they will knoweverything.I'm hurting them by leaving. Why should they have to be plagued by my truth on top of that? Fuck I'm a coward for doing this.
Backing away, I shove the letters back into my jacket pocket. My breath stills when the door handle turns and the old wood creaks. I step into the brush.
Mia's deep red hair shines as the setting sun glimmers through the trees in ribbons, lighting her up like the angel she is. Could she feel me there? Bleeding out in the pouring rain, wishing there was another way.
I feel my heartbeat in every part of my body as she scans the surroundings looking for me. I think back to earlier today when she gave me such a gift. "I'm sorry, baby," I whisper before allowing the trees to swallow me up. Taking one last lingering look at her before I'm gone.